"Drink the whey quite hot, my dear Mrs. Lake."
Clara, her mind full of Judas the false and his kiss, went upstairs alone; she preferred to do so, she told them, and shut-herself in her own chamber. When Elizabeth appeared with the white-wine whey, and left it, she noticed that her mistress had not begun to undress.
Neither had she when Mr. Lake came up, nearly an hour afterwards. They had lingered in the dining-room--he, Mrs. Chester, and Lady Ellis. He was very much surprised. She sat by the fire, wrapped in a shawl, with her feet on the fender.
"Why, Clara, I thought you were in bed and asleep!"
There was no answering remark. Mr. Lake, thinking her manner more and more strange, laid his hand kindly on her shoulder.
"Clary, what ails you to-night?"
She shrank away from his hand, and replied to his question by another.
"Why is it that our house is not ready?"
"That is just what I asked of the workmen today, lazy dogs!"
"We can go back to it as it is. Some of the rooms are habitable. Will you do so?"